Rekindled Affection
by SiennaS
Summary: After a devastating car accident that leaves his girlfriend in a coma and his career in limbo Dean Ambrose must find a way to pick up the pieces of his shattered life. (Follows The Demons Inside). Dean Ambrose/OC
1. Chapter 1

_So I have a good start on my contracted story and honestly, I just can't stay away. I love writing about the boys. My plan is to update this story on a once a week basis while I continue to work on my contracted writing. It's going to require some patience from everyone involved...especially me as I try to stay focused. _

_I also want you all to know I heard you, which is another reason why this story will take a bit longer to write as it's going to require me to do some extensive research in order to properly write the story. This will be another stretching beyond my comfort zone as again it will be a departure from what I'm used to writing. I hope you all enjoy it._

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Chapter 1

Dean hobbled into the third floor intensive care unit and checked in at the nurse's station. "Morning, Mary."

The pretty little brunette looked up from where she sat filling out paperwork and smiled. "Good morning, Mr. Ambrose."

"It's Dean," he corrected. "Mr. Ambrose makes me feel old." He glanced down the hall. "So how's our girl today?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Specific orders were written into Zoe's chart that stated he should be called with any change in her condition, no matter how insignificant. Since he'd received no call, it meant nothing had changed. That thought was a double edged sword as it meant she hadn't improved any, but also hadn't lost ground.

Mary shook her head. "Nothing really to report. Though-" She paused and tapped the end of her pen against her temple. "When Doctor Morgan checked on her earlier he did mention that he believes Miss Lynn is starting to fight the respirator."

Dean arched a brow. He had no idea what exactly that meant, but he prayed it was good news. "Which means?"

Mary smiled again. "It means she's getting better."

Dean sighed out a breath of relief even as Mary went on to explain. "It basically means the involuntary trigger that makes you breathe is starting to kick back in and she's showing signs of trying to breathe on her own. If these signs get stronger he'll try taking her off the respirator to see what happens."

"So that's good," Dean replied as he glanced down the hall toward Zoe's private room. After three weeks of basically nothing he could really use some good news. "Right?"

"It's very good." She nodded. "Why don't you go on back?"

Dean gave her a nod then angling his crutches, he headed down the hall. With the accident solidly behind him, and Zoe now moved back to a hospital near her hometown he'd finally been able to settle in to this new routine...as depressing as it was. As the days immediately following the accident slowly passed, he'd had to not only face the truth about his own injuries, but Zoe's too.

He'd tried to withdraw from the team, but Amber, Seth and the others refused to let him wallow in his pity. Still, it was hard not to do just that when the doctor's and counselors continually warned him not to get his hopes up with regard to Zoe's prognosis and recovery.

So he'd leaned on them those first couple of weeks, but last week Roman, Lexi, Seth and Amber had returned to the road and he'd returned with Zoe to North Carolina . Stuck on the sidelines nursing both his leg as it recovered from a compound fracture and Zoe as she fought for her life, he struggled with the new normal that was now his life. In a strange way he was thankful that his recovery time would be long. It would give him more time to help Zoe when she finally woke up.

_If she wakes up._

Dean growled as his negative thoughts as he slowly made his way down the hall. Damn it, he'd been doing his best to put the negativity and depression away, but it wasn't easy. Three weeks was a long time for someone to be in a coma. Combined with her continued low rank on the Glasgow Coma Scale and his hope was slowly waning.

_Zoe's brain injury is severe and you need to understand that the person you knew before the accident is gone forever._ The doctor's warning once again played through his head as he entered the room to the familiar sounds of the heart monitor and respirator hard at work. At first he'd found the sounds comforting as they were tangible indications that Zoe was indeed alive. Now, he simply found them annoying as they now served as continual reminders of how the life he loved was gone forever.

She looked exactly the same, he noted as he settled into the recliner and lifted his cast leg to place on a nearby chair. _You're going to need lots of patience and understanding, Mr. Ambrose._ Those words had come from the hospital therapist after he'd blown up about the doctors keeping her condition from him. _We'll get this situation resolved for you. However, even once the legalities are settled this process isn't going to be easy for you, Zoe, or anyone who loves her. You're going to need just as much support as she will and you're going to have to try and remain calm and understanding._

Because they weren't married and he wasn't her next of kin, initially the doctor's at the new hospital had refused to tell him much because of the damn Hipaa laws. After he'd gotten angry and called Hunter, who immediately threatened the hospital administrator with lawyers and some ugly press for the facility, they'd put Dean in touch with the right people to have paperwork signed, granting him partial guardianship of Zoe that he now shared with her brother Zane.

Dean set the crutches aside and turned to her then slid a hand beneath hers. "Good morning, beautiful." He paused for a moment as he struggled to push away the sudden and random feeling of helplessness that popped up from time to time. "I don't know if you can hear me yet, but it's Dean. Mary, the pretty little brunette nurse I told you about before mentioned that you might be finally making some progress. That's good." He nodded, though he knew she couldn't see him. "That's real good, because I miss you, baby. I miss seeing those expressive green eyes and that amazing smile of yours."

Much to his surprise her fingers slowly curled around his hand. The movement appeared purposeful, but he'd learned over the last few weeks that movements in the extremities didn't necessarily mean progress. Still, this felt different. It wasn't a twitch of a muscle or the random jerk of an arm or leg. It wasn't just one finger either, but all of them. He leaned over and pressed the call button.

"Yes, Mr. Ambrose," Mary's soft voice filtered through the speaker.

"I don't mean to bother you, but I think I might have just witnessed some purposeful movements from Zoe." He didn't want to sound too excited despite the nervousness bubbling in the pit of his stomach. "Can you come in when you get a chance?"

"I'll be right there."

Less than a minute later Mary hurried into the room. "What kind of movements are we talking?" she asked even as her attention landed on Dean and Zoe's joined hands. She grinned. "Well that's new."

"It is," he replied as he dared a small smile. "Does it mean what I hope it means?"

"Maybe," she replied, then moved to the cabinet to grab the needle point probe they'd been using to test Zoe's response to pain. She flipped up the covers hiding Zoe's feet, then carefully pricked Zoe's foot. In previous tests, she'd exhibited absolutely no response to pain, not even a muscle twitch. This time however, Dean watched with excitement and a new found hope as Zoe's foot jerked in response. It was a small movement, but it signaled something so much bigger.

His grin widened as his gaze shifted from her foot to Mary's face. "That's good."

Mary nodded. "That's very good." She held up a finger. "I'll be right back. I want to call Doctor Morgan."

Half an hour later, with a crutch under one arm, Dean leaned against the wall just outside the door to Zoe's room and waited. Nervous excitement zipped through him as his mind churned with possibilities. Maybe it was still possible to have his Zoe back.

"Mr. Ambrose?"

Dean turned to find Doctor Morgan standing in the doorway.

"Doc? What's the good word?" Dean asked and cringed just a little at the pathetic sound of hopefulness in his voice. He'd been warned enough by everyone involved not to get too hopeful.

Doctor Morgan grinned. "Well, we've taken her off the ventilator and she's doing well breathing on her own and you were right, she is showing signs of emerging from the coma."

Dean couldn't hide his grin and was treated to a warning look from the doctor. "However, I want you to understand, this isn't going to be anything like what you see in the movies. It could take several hours or even a few days until she emerges completely."

Dean's smile faltered a little. "Is that a result of her brain damage?"

The doctor nodded. "She's going to open her eyes from time to time and move her extremities. She might even start making incoherent noises. It doesn't mean she's awake yet and it's not necessarily an accurate representation of the severity of her injury." He placed a hand on Dean's shoulder. "You need to prepare yourself because this process isn't going to be easy. She's going act very much like an infant. She's not going to be able to speak and she probably won't know who you are at first."

Dean nodded as a fresh wave of grief rushed through him. "I understand."

"I hope you do," Doctor Morgan said. "I also want you to understand that this isn't necessarily indicative of the severity of her injury. Rather, it's simply a process that everyone goes through when they come out of a coma." He let go of Dean's shoulder, stepped out of the doorway, then held up a hand to stop Dean from entering. "One last thing." The somber tone of his voice had Dean stopping in his tracks. "We believe she may have suffered a stroke."

Dean could feel his eyes widen at Doctor Morgan's revelation. "What makes you think that?"

"Her reflexes and movements in both her left arm and left leg are significantly diminished." He shook his head. "I know you're getting sick of hearing this, but we're not going to know for sure until she wakes up completely. I just wanted you to be prepared." He moved his arm and motioned for Dean to enter. "Now, go talk to her like you have been. It's possible that she can hear you now. So it's important for you to work on rebuilding your bond and helping her stimulate memories. Just remember to be patient."

_Be patient!_ Dean had come to hate those two little words. Since the accident, everything in his life had become a waiting game. Dean took a deep breath and preparing himself he hobbled his way back into the room. Gone was the sound of the ventilator and in it's place was a soft hiss of oxygen being delivered to her though a full mask. He had to admit, it was nice to finally be able to see her face without the damn tubes in the way.

He eased down into the chair next to her bed, set his crutches aside and resumed his position from before. Automatically, her fingers curled around his again and he grinned just a little. It was a small sign, but one he would cling to with fervent hope as he waited for her to heal enough to awake.

With his free hand, Dean slipped his cell from his pocket, opened up his text messages and found the group text chain he'd been using. After the first week of Zoe's coma he'd discovered it was easier to keep Roman, Lexi, Seth, Amber, Hunter, Stephanie, and several others informed by sending one text to all instead of retyping again and again. Taking his time he typed.

_Finally some good news. Zoe's coming out of the coma. Still going to be awhile before she's fully awake, but she's headed in the right direction. Keep praying for her. _

He hit send and waited for the message to clear, then copied and pasted it to his twitter account.

It was only a matter of time before they'd really know what they were facing with regard to her recovery. It was only a matter of time, he realized, until he'd learned just how much of the Zoe he loved was gone forever.


	2. Chapter 2

_I'm snowed in here and the storm is still going on...no EDJ today...so I have time to write. Which means while I have time to work on my money projects, I was also able to take an hour to get the next chapter for here in shape._ **_WARNING: You might need tissues._**

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Chapter 2

Dean nodded at Carla where she sat on the couch watching television, then headed for the kitchen. The right thing to do would be to go in, sit down with her and have a real conversation. Instead he continued on task. He wasn't in the mood to socialize.

Zane was probably at the hospital with Zoe, he considered as he pulled the six pack of beer from the fridge. He should have been at the hospital with her too. Using only one crutch, he hobbled into the den turned makeshift bedroom. It was the same room they'd used for Zoe and Zane's mother during her battle with cancer. Now he was using it while his leg healed. Hopefully they'd get to use it for Zoe when she was well enough to come home.

As he eased into the recliner, he couldn't stop the bitter smirk that resulted from the thought. _If_ she'd ever be able to come home was a more accurate statement. Still, it wasn't like they hadn't given him fair warning. Doctor Morgan said not to judge Zoe's post coma reactions as the final results of her trauma, but it was hard...so hard not to lose faith.

For weeks he'd listened to them warn him about not getting his hope up too high. The stubborn side of him refused to listen and clung to the small sliver of hope that just maybe the doctor's were wrong. Only when Zoe emerged from her coma, she'd done exactly what they'd predicted. His heart didn't just break...it disintegrated as he'd watched her open her eyes, stare blankly at him, then lash out in a fit of panic and confusion that resulted in the medical staff's need to restrain her.

Unable to do anything to ease her suffering he'd watched while she fought against the bindings, tears trickling down her cheeks and incoherent noises edged in panic tumbling from her lips. Feeling nauseous, and more than a little helpless, he'd slipped from the room, leaned against the wall and closed his eyes as he fought for control. He'd seen a lot of things in his lifetime, but nothing, not even Lexi giving birth to Alea shook him as much as seeing Zoe in the aftermath of her coma.

He knew it was cowardly, but he simply couldn't bring himself to go back into the room. So he'd feigned feeling ill and left the hospital. After all, he couldn't do anything for her anyway and it wasn't as if she'd know he was gone.

_That was two days ago…. _

Shame coursed through him as he took a long pull from the bottle and switched on the television. He should have been there for her. Should still be there, right now, by her side, trying to soothe her. Only at the moment, he was emotionally bankrupt.

For nearly a month he'd pushed away his fears and clung tight to a hope that seemed to drain, little by little with each passing day. The incident at the hospital wiped out everything he'd had left, leaving him incapable to fight the overwhelming surge of grief and sadness. He'd barely been able to pull himself out of bed the last two mornings. How could he possibly help her when he had nothing left in the tank to draw from?

Zoe's brother and sister-in-law, along with several aunts and uncles leaned on each other for support. Just who was he suppose to lean on when he had no family and his friends were off living their own lives? No way could he continue to stay strong in the face of such overwhelming odds without help. Only who could possibly understand how alone, lonely and hopeless he was feeling?

He finished off the beer, returned the empty bottle to the slot and pulled out another one. It simply wasn't fair. His Zoe was gone and in her place was a shell of the woman she'd been before. How was he supposed to return to work to watch Roman and Seth in their happy little lives, knowing he'd now never have what they had? But he couldn't just walk away from Zoe. No matter what her condition he still loved her. Besides, he wasn't that heartless and cold. So exactly what was he supposed to do?

He was just starting to feel the numbing effects of the alcohol when the door opened and in walked his friends. He stared blankly, through inebriated eyes as Roman walked toward him and pulled the beer from his hands, then Amber hit the switch flooding the room in a wash of light that had him holding up his arm while he squinted. "What the fuck?"

"I could ask you that same question," Seth said as he snatched up the remainder of the six pack and walked it across the room, out of Dean's reach.

"What are you guys doing here?" Dean asked as irritation swam through him. While he might have just been lamenting about now alone he was feeling, he really didn't want to talk to anyone. He didn't want to see people, especially his friends flaunting their nice little lives in front of him. All he really wanted was to be alone with his misery.

"Carla called me," Roman said as he crouched next to Dean's chair.

_Carla? _Dean frowned as he intoxicated brain struggled to process the information . _How in the hell had Zoe's sister-in-law gotten ahold of Roman's number?_

"Why?" Dean asked.

"She was worried about you," Lexi answered from where she stood holding Alea. "She said you didn't deal well when Zoe emerged from her coma."

Seth crouched on the opposite side of the chair. "She also said you've been hole up in here drinking yourself into unconsciousness, ever since." He shook his head. "That's not like you, dude."

"Just leave me alone," Dean grumbled. The last thing he wanted or needed was others judging him. He was doing enough judging of himself without outside input.

"When was the last time you ate something, slept or went to the gym? Hell, when was the last time you left the house," Seth shot back.

"In case you've forgotten, I have a broken leg," Dean argued. It was a really lame excuse and he knew it, but he hated having to defend his actions to anyone. "There's very little I can do, so why waste my time?"

"Bullshit," Roman sniffed. "You're arms aren't broken and you've still got one good leg. You could work around that injury if you wanted to."

"Right," Seth agreed. "Seems to me you're more interested in feeling sorry for yourself and drinking your sorry ass into oblivion."

Angry and heartsick, Dean lashed out. "You have no idea," he all but shouted. "You weren't there. You didn't see here. So don't you dare stand there and judge me."

Seth shook his head. "We're not judging you."

"Like hell you're not," Dean nearly yelled. "You don't know what it was like to watch her thrash about like some wild animal, screeching and making incoherent noises." He paused and lowered his voice as the grief he'd been wrestling against bloomed in his chest. "She didn't know anyone, not even me. She had no idea where she was and I'm not all that sure she even knew who she was." He could feel the tears coming now and struggled to push them away. _Dean Ambrose didn't cry...damn it!_ "You don't know," he whispered now. "You don't understand."

Amber motioned for Seth to move, then took his place. She rested her cast covered hand over his and looked him directly in the eyes. "I know you're hurting. All we want to do is help."

"You can't." Dean shook his head as he stared straight ahead. If he looked at her he just might break down.

"Yes, we can," Amber argued. "You need to let your feelings out and you need to let us in."

"Is that something psycho babble mumbo jumbo your therapist told you," he snapped.

He caught her flinch from the corner of his eye and he immediately regretted his words. It wasn't fair for him to lash at her when she was only trying to help. "Yes," she replied, not backing down. "It is and she's right. You can't handle this alone." She motioned to the room. "Look around, Dean. You're sitting in a dark room drinking yourself into a stupor. That's called depression and without help it's going to end badly." She arched a brow. "I speak from experience in this area."

He nodded as what little resolve he had began to crumble. He hated needing anyone, but he hated this lonely feeling even more. "Yeah, I guess you do."

"So let us help you." She urged as she laced her fingers through his. "As much as we can be, we want to here for you. Lean on us."

He looked at her now and the remainder of his already shaky resolve broke. Tears blurred his vision. "It's not fair," he whispered on a sob.

"I know," she replied as she let go of his hand and pulled him into a hug.

"I love her so much," unable to to stop the flood of emotions he openly wept now. "And she doesn't even know who I am. She's gone. The woman I love is gone. How am I supposed to handle that?"

"One day at a time," Amber replied as she held him. "You handle it one day at a time and you try not to focus on what was."

* * *

_I want to try and make the story as authentic as possible to what might happen in real life. From everything I've been reading, head injuries are not a simple healing process like an arm or a leg. While this is a story and I will be taking some liberties, I will do my best to try and stay realistic and authentic too. Since I've never personally experienced dealing with anyone with a head injury I have to go on what I'm reading and watching. If anyone has experiences they would be willing to share please PM me. My goal with this story is to grow and learn as an author, which means expanding my experiences and knowledge base. _

_Thanks again for any comments, reviews, favorites and follows and any PM's you all send my way. I really enjoy the interaction and support on here._


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3

Dean woke the next morning feeling marginally better. After crying like a damn baby he'd spent the evening talking with his friends and playing with Alea. He'd never been one to share his feelings, except with Zoe, but he had to admit the purge had already done wonders for his mental state. It also helped, as embarrassed as he was to admit it, that he knew he would no longer be alone, at least for awhile. They'd decided that since Amber was still on the injured list with her broken arm she would stay behind when the team returned to work on Friday. He could only hope that having her to lean on would help the way he hoped.

Seth, Roman and Lexi would return during their day's off to help out with whatever they could. Knowing his friends would be there for him gave Dean the mental strength he needed. Maybe he could get through this after all.

For the first time since the accident, he allowed Roman and Seth to drag him off to the gym. Working around his broken leg certainly wasn't an easy task, especially since so much of what they did involved the use of their legs, but he'd managed.

When he'd returned to the house he'd been in a much better mood. After a modified shower, he dressed, ate and with the group in tow he headed for the hospital.

"There can only be two people at a time in the room," Dean explained. "So you all will have to come in one at a time."

Lexi nodded. "That's fine. We can pass Alea off to each other that way."

Dean hobbled to the nurses desk and was relieved to find Mary there. She looked up at him and smiled. "Mr. Ambrose. I take it you're feeling better?"

He returned her smile. "I've told you, Mary, It's Dean and yes, I am. Thank you." He motioned to Amber who had volunteered to go in first. "My teammates have come by for a few days and they'd like to see Zoe."

Mary's attention shifted from Dean to Amber. "Fantastic. She's made amazing strides in the last two days. Zane said he would tell you when you were feeling better."

Dean shook his head as a fresh batch of guilt sliced through him. Zane had tried to talk to him on several occasions and every time Dean had sent him away with a promise to talk later. "I haven't had a chance to speak with Zane." Liar!

"Well, in that case," Mary began. "Zoe is more coherent. She has suffered from amnesia and doesn't know anyone or even who she is. Doctor Morgan believes this will pass as her brain continues to heal. She now understands that she's been in an accident and she's in the hospital. She has moments where slips and we have to restrain her, but they're growing farther apart."

"That's great," Dean said a he let out a relieved breath. Seeing her bound to the bed had been the hardest thing he'd ever had to witness in his life.

"It is," Mary replied. "She's not ready for foods yet, but we are able to have her sit up in bed. It's huge strides from where she was a few days ago." She grinned again. "Doctor Morgan is beyond pleased." She nodded down the hallway. "Why don't you go on in and see her?"

"They had to restrain her?" Amber asked as she walked next to Dean.

He nodded. "That's what put me over the edge a few days ago. Seeing her panicked and struggling against the restraints…" He shook his head. "I don't think I'll ever be able to erase that image from my mind."

Carefully, he entered Zoe's room and was shocked to see her sitting up in the bed. Her eyes were closed as she leaned her head against the pillow, but the oxygen mask from a few days before had been replaced with a nasal canula and they'd removed at least one of the intravenous lines. Her color had returned, he noted. Gone was the ashen white she'd been right after the accident, and in it's place was the peaches and cream complexion he loved so much.

He slipped into the seat next to her bed and gently took her hand in his. "Zoe? Baby, it's Dean."

After a moment, her eyes fluttered open. She turned her head and stared at him. Her gaze narrowed slightly as if she was struggling to recognize him. Dean smiled. "You look so much better. I hope you're feeling better." He motioned to Amber who stood at the edge of the bed. "Amber is here. Do you remember Amber? She was in the accident with us. She saved your life."

Zoe's gaze drifted from Dean to Amber. She blinked, cocked her head to the side and stared at Amber.

"I'm sorry, I haven't been here," Dean continued. "I wasn't feeling well and thought it best if I stayed home to rest." Okay so maybe that was a lie, but she wasn't in any condition to know the truth.

Zoe shifted her attention back to him. "D-D" She struggled to speak.

"Yes, baby. I'm here," Dean offered and he watched with some surprise and encouragement as she lifted a hand to his face.

She cupped his cheek. "D," she struggled again.

He smiled now, hoping her struggle to say his name meant she recognized him. Instead, her face slipped into a sudden frown and she let out a cry as she lifted her hands to her head. She began to thrash as a scream of pain tore from her.

Panic sliced through him as Dean struggled to his feet, reached over and grabbed her arms. The last thing they needed was her to rip out her IV's or feeding tube. "Get the nurse," Dean shouted at Amber who took off at a run.

"Shhh...easy, baby," he struggled to soothe Zoe as he grabbed her hands and pulled them to him. Dear God what was wrong now? She'd done so well avoiding the many pitfalls that could nag coma victims. So why now when it appeared that they were finally out of the woods did something have to happen?

She fought back, yanking against his grip, cries of agony ripped from her and simultaneously ripped at his heart. "I know you're hurting," Dean tried again, desperate to soothe her. "Amber is getting help. Please, baby. You have to calm down. Shhh...easy now."

Thankfully, she seemed to begin to settle as her eyes focused on him. There was pain in those beautiful green irises and pain and desperation. He knew he'd do damn near anything to make that pain go away. "That's it," he encouraged when he realized he was making progress. "Help is coming. Hang on, okay?"

Mary rushed into the room with an attendant and Doctor Morgan not far behind. "What happened?"

"She was trying to speak," Dean explained even as he kept his gaze on Zoe's face. "Weren't you, baby? You were trying to say my name."

Zoe had settled now, but her eyes watered, her attention completely focused on him. He glanced over at Mary. "She's in pain. After she screamed she reached for her head. She's hurting."

Doctor Morgan motioned to Dean. "Release her slowly and tell her what you're doing."

Dean nodded. "Baby, I'm going to let go of you and move so Doctor Morgan can help you. I love you."

When he released her she lowered her arms and her gaze followed him as he backed away to make room for the doctors. He made his way to the corner of the room where Amber waited. "What's wrong with her?" Amber asked as she watched the doctors and nurses work.

"I don't know," Dean replied. "I wish she could tell us where she's hurting." He raked a shaky hand through his hair.

"I've never see her like that," Amber whispered. "I mean she looks like Zoe, but…"

"Yeah," Dean replied as he scrubbed his hands over his face. "I know."

* * *

_I know I'm leaving yet another cliff hanger, but I promise she's not going to die._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4

No one else had the chance to visit with Zoe. Within minutes of Dean calling for help Mary ushered he and Amber back to waiting room while Zoe was whisked away.

"What's going on?' Lexi asked as Dean eased into the closest chair.

"They're taking Zoe in for emergency surgery," Amber explained as she shook her head. "Something about the External Ventricular Drain being clogged." She shrugged. "I have no idea what that means."

"What is this external drain thing?" Roman asked.

"It's a small tube they placed inside her skull to siphon off the excess fluids building up in Zoe's brain," Dean answered. "Apparently, the doctor's back at the hospital in Pennsylvania placed it when they did the initial surgery. It's suppose to help alleviate the excess pressure on her brain." _God he was tired._ Dean leaned his head back against the wall and toyed with the idea of closing his eyes. "The idea was that eventually she'd be well enough they could remove it."

"Wait." Seth held up a hand. "If it's external why does she need surgery?"

"Because," Dean said. "They think the clog is on the end that is inside her skull." He sighed heavily then slapped the arm of the chair as fear and helplessness took hold. "Fuck! And she was actually making progress. It was the first time since before the accident she'd been coherent enough to try and talk."

Amber eased down into the chair next to Dean "She'll be okay. You heard the doctor. In the grand scheme it's a very minor setback."

Dean nodded. "Minor as long as they get it fixed before the pressure in her brain gets too high. Damn it, she's already suffered one stroke. She might not make it through another."

* * *

Time seemed to crawl as Dean waited for word on Zoe's condition. He struggled to nap in the uncomfortable chair while Lexi and Roman took Alea down to the main lobby to look at the giant fish tank. Two hours passed before Doctor Morgan walked into the waiting room, his surgical cap in his hand. "Dean?"

Dean looked up his heart in his throat.

Doctor Morgan gave him a small smile. "We found the blockage and replaced the drain. I don't believe she suffered any further damage."

Dean closed his eyes and let out a sigh even as Amber whispered a 'Thank God' next to him. "When can I see her?"

Doctor Morgan shook his head. "She's in critical care for the next several hours. We'll have to monitor her closely as she comes out of anesthesia . You're best bet is to come back in the morning."

Dean pushed from the chair and braced himself on one crutch. "I know I'm being a huge pain in the ass, but two minutes, Doc. I won't be able to relax until I see her for myself. All I'm asking for is two minutes, so I can see that she's really okay. Then I'll go home."

Doctor Morgan glanced around the room at the others, then slowly nodded. "Two minutes. I'll have Mary escort you."

"Thank you," Dean murmured.

A few minutes later he hobbled down the hallway with Mary. "I know this has been hard for you," she began. "It's always hard on the loved ones."

Dean smirked. "You have no idea."

"Actually, I do," she replied. "I've worked this ward for several years and I've seen a lot of grieving families come through those doors." She motioned to the elevators at the other end of the hall. "I've also seen a lot leave grieving because their loved one didn't make it." She stopped and placed a gentle hand on Dean's arm. "She's still here, Dean. That's huge considering the impact she sustained in that accident." Her blue eyes sparkled beneath the glow of the hospital lights. "I know it's hard to remain optimistic when it feels like you're facing insurmountable odds, but you have to remember she's also made great progress since waking. That's reason to hold on to hope."

Dean looked down to where the pretty brunette's hand covered his. He knew she was only trying to help, but at the moment he was feeling more than a little bitter and emotionally raw. "Hope for what? That she might eventually remember me? That she'll eventually be able to feed herself. That maybe she'll be able to walk again or communicate like a normal human being?" He shook his head. "I'm sorry, but I can't allow myself to get my hopes up too much. Not when the life I had with her is gone. All of our future plans were wiped out in the blink of an eye." He cocked his head to the side and stared at the nurse. "Just what kind of life does she have to look forward to now?"

"One filled with love and joy and an understanding that every moment is precious," Mary replied without hesitation. She shook her head. "No, she won't ever be exactly the same person you knew before the accident, but that doesn't mean she won't get close. Heck, for all you know she might come out of this better."

Dean's lips twitched at her optimism. _Better...right._ "You _are_ a tenacious little thing."

Mary nodded. "I know and I also know that if you love Zoe half as much as it appears, then you'll find it somewhere inside yourself to place your faith in her. Just the fact that she's survived this long tells me she's strong and probably more than capable of handling everything she's about to face. I think the real question is...are you?"

* * *

Hours later, as he sat in the living room with Alea on his lap, Mary's question hung over him like a persistent rain cloud. At first he'd been put off by her brazen statement. How dare she say such a thing to him? Did she have any idea who she was talking to? He was after all, Dean Ambrose, up and coming superstar heel of the WWE. He fought guys bigger than him on a nightly basis and didn't flinch. Hell, he'd spent years scratching and clawing his way up the ranks to get where he was. He could handle whatever life tossed his way. He wasn't afraid of anything…

_Except this…_

He watched as Alea's face twisted in frustration while she banged a square block at the round hole, trying to make it fit. Gently he reached out, turned the toy so the correct opening showed then guided her hand over the hole. The block slid in effortlessly and Alea let loose a giggle as turned her head and looked up at Dean. The innocent joy in her face made him smile. Life was so easy at that age and everything in the world was fresh and new.

His smiled faded as he once again thought about Zoe. It was hard to admit that he was afraid, but the sad reality was just that. This was something outside of his control and he was terrified of how things would end. He handed Alea another block, then stroked a hand through the fine dark hair on her head. She was so sweet...so unaware to what the real world could be like. Would Zoe be like that as she rediscovered her world?

_Fuck! _

He scrubbed his free hand over his face as he wrestled with the harshness of his reality. Damn if Mary wasn't right, though. Not once had he really considered Zoe in all of this. Zoe was a strong woman. Stubborn with a determination unlike anyone he'd ever seen, aside from maybe Lexi, she was the kind of person who set a goal, then didn't stop until she reached it.

Who was to say how far she could go in her recovery, especially if she received the proper support and therapy? This wasn't, he realized, with a certain amount of shame, about him in the slightest. It was never about him and the quicker he sucked up his feelings and focused on what was truly important, the better chance they both had of Zoe return home.


	5. Chapter 5

Hey everyone, I know I've been gone for a little bit, but I had to finish a pay project and then I wanted to work on some drawings of the guys for when me and my daughter get to meet the boys in a couple of weeks. The drawings are done and I've posted them in my pictures if you want to see them. Okay, on with the story…

* * *

Chapter 5

Thankfully Zoe awoke from the anesthesia without incident and over the course of the next two weeks she began to make huge strides in her recovery. At least huge strides based on the Doctor's expectations.

With the help of an advocate provided by the WWE, Dean and Zane managed to get Zoe into the best rehabilitation facility in the area. Dean couldn't begin to express how grateful he was to the McMahons when it came to all the support they provided. Lawyers, specialists, advocates...even a personal therapist were at Dean's beck and call.

Even with the best care available to Zoe, it didn't change the fact that while she slowly regained certain functions, others appeared to remain out of reach. He hoped these issues were also only temporary. The fact that she still didn't know who he was bothered him. While it was obvious she trusted him and was even happy to see him when he walked into the room, she wasn't able to connect with him on intimate and personal levels. Of course that probably had as much to do with the fact that she didn't know who she was either. Combine those two big issues, with loss of motor function from her stroke and it was no wonder she was having a rough time.

Still, it amazed him how certain things, like being able to read, feed herself and talk, returned without issue, but she couldn't remember people or televisions shows or even what books she'd already read in her life. The doctors told him that every head injury was different and every patient would recover differently. He'd thought they'd only said that to cover their asses because they didn't have the answers, but he was slowly recognizing their words as truth.

In the rehab facility Zoe's days were quickly filled with carefully scheduled blocks of time for rest and therapy. Speech, cognitive, motor, the myriad of therapist assigned to her blew Dean's mind. In the middle of all the rehabilitation was her actual physical condition to worry over. Because of her inability to eat she'd lost quite a bit of weight. With the swelling in her brain still evident the need to limit her fluids had to be balanced against her risk of dehydration and the damage it would further cause to her body.

For every good day she seemed to have, two bad days followed. Yet despite the stress, she was indeed making progress.

In the middle of dealing with her condition Dean reached a point where he had to start working on his own rehab. With the hard cast now off his leg, replaced by a Velcro splint, he was able to walk on it and had resumed a slow and steady exercise regimen that would hopefully get his leg back to wrestling strength. He tried not to think about his return to the ring. Right now it seemed so far away, but he knew it would come quickly and he dreaded the thought of having to leave Zoe behind.

Sore from his latest physical therapy session, he limped his way down the hall and into Zoe's room. She sat up in bed, working with the physical therapist. He paused in the doorway and watched as she struggled to grasp the block with her left hand, then lift it up and place it on top of the other block. She was almost there when she lost her grip and the block tumbled back to the tray with a clatter.

Frustration and sadness lit in her eyes as she leaned back against the pillow and shook her head. "I can't." The two little words came out jumbled and slurred, but they made him smile. Just a few short weeks ago she couldn't speak at all. So what if her speech wasn't perfect? It was progress and that was all that mattered.

"You're not going to get better if you give up," the therapist, a sweet little redhead with doe eyes and a childlike smile replied. Dean frowned as he struggled to remember her name. There were almost too many different therapists and doctors to keep straight. Now what was her name? Lydia? Linda? _Lyla!_ Yeah, that was it.

"No," Zoe said as a look of defiance claimed her features. Slowly Dean's frown lifted into a smile. He knew that defiance all too well, even welcomed it because it meant some of his Zoe did still live somewhere inside the person before him.

"Zoe, please," Lyla argued.

"No," Zoe repeated, her voice louder the second time.

"Lyla," Dean called as he pushed off the wall and fully stepped into the room. The redhead turned to glance at him. A look of relief crossed her face. "Mr. Ambrose."

He nearly snarled at her. What was it with people around here insisting on being all formal with his name? Instead of reminding her, yet again, about how he liked to be addressed, he focused on the issue at hand. "Give me a minute with her?"

Lyla nodded then slipped from where she sat and walked out of the room. Dean slowly advanced on Zoe as he watched those defiant eyes turn on him. "No," she repeated.

"Why?" he asked as he eased a hip onto the bed and faced her. "Tell me why."

"I can't," she replied as tears began to well. _Please not again! _Much of the last couple of weeks had been filled with fits of crying that left him feeling heartbroken and helpless. He knew her tears stemmed mostly from frustration, but that only made him feel worse, because there wasn't a damn thing he could do to make this easier for her. He swallowed hard as he forced down the need to gather her in his arms and shut out the world. That action wouldn't do either of them any good.

"No," he corrected, "you won't." He knew pushing her would most likely end ugly, but he'd quickly learned he had to get her to purge the self-pity and sadness before determination could take over.

"I can't," she shouted at him, standing her ground as her eyes grew more and more glassy.

"You can't right now," Dean admitted, "but you won't _ever_ if you don't at least try. Telling Lyla no is giving up, Zoe and you're no quitter."

"How do you know?" she asked and he watched as a bit more of her face moved when she spoke. Did she even realize that the paralyzing effect on her facial muscles seemed to be easing?

He stroked a knuckle along her cheek and noted how the muscle twitched beneath his touch. "Because I know you, baby. I know what kind of person you are inside and you're not a quitter."

"How?" she sucked in a ragged breath as she stared up at him. "How do you know, when I don't know?"

He took her hand in his, lifted it to his lips. "Oh, but you do know. You might not consciously remember who you are, but deep inside...where it counts...you know. I believe that." He pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "I believe in you."

The tears she'd been hoarding broke free and trickled down her cheeks, breaking his heart just a little. God, he hated seeing her cry. "How can you?" she asked.

He grinned at her question, knowing the answer was so very easy. "Because I love you, baby."

His response only seemed to make her tears come faster as she sniffled. "I want to say the words back, but I can't." She shook her head. "I don't know you. Don't know me."

Dean fought back the new wave of sadness threatening to wash over him. He desperately wanted to hear her say the words again, to know she loved him like she used to. Only he knew that couldn't happen and that knowledge hurt like hell. "You trust me though, right?"

She nodded slowly. "I don't know why, but I do."

"Then that's all we need right now. The rest will come," he said, as much for his own benefit as for hers. "We just need to be patient."

She let out a sob. "I need…"

He shifted positions so he sat next to her and gathered her close, holding her as she purged. As difficult as the situation was, he couldn't help but think how the alternative would have been so much worse. As long as she was alive and fighting, they'd get through this. They'd no doubt carry the scars from this for the rest of their lives, but they'd be together and that was all that mattered.

After several minutes her crying eased and she pulled back to look up at him. "I'm ready to try again."

He smiled down at her. _That's my girl!_


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

Dean stepped out of the car, then turned back to face Amber. "I'll be here for about an hour and a half."

"Do you want me to come back and get you?" She asked.

Dean shook his head. "No. I'll catch a cab. I don't want you to have to leave Zoe to come get me." Since Amber began to take shifts with Zoe he'd noticed a change in Zoe's personality. She seemed a bit more relaxed, more patient and not as anxious. The other day he'd even walked into the room to find Zoe sharing a laugh with Amber. It did wonders for her to be around Amber.

"Then I'll see you in about two hours?" She arched a brow.

"Right," he agreed, then shut the door and watched as Amber pulled back into traffic, thankful she was still around. Much to the WWE and Amber's disappointment, Amber's arm wasn't healing the way it was supposed to. At the six week mark her x-ray's still showed a sizable fracture of the bone. Doctor Amman was so concerned he'd sent her to see a specialist. She was now on a regimen consisting of certain vitamins, extra calcium and twice daily sessions with a bone stimulator. If they couldn't get her arm to heal on it's own surgery would be necessary and her career with WWE would be over just when she'd become really popular.

Dean frowned as he watched the car disappear into traffic. Guilt clung to him like a foul smell he couldn't quite shake. Secretly he was happy that she couldn't return to work just yet. Having her here not only helped Zoe, but also helped his mental state on those days when Zoe slipped in her progress. On a sigh, he turned and headed into the building. He felt like slime for taking advantage of her misfortune. After all, he knew what it was like to want something so badly and have it just out of reach.

He pulled on the door, walked into the physical therapy center. A quick blast of cool air smacked into him as he signed in, then headed for the warm up area. After two weeks of working with his therapist, he could pretty much do the moves on his own, and did at home every chance he got. He didn't need to keep coming to the center, so why did he? Maybe he was just using it as an excuse to step away from the situation for even just a little while. Maybe it was a way for him to safely take out some of his frustrations.

He was considering those thoughts when he spotted her. The brunette was probably in her mid-twenties. Her long, straight hair was cut to layers that helped accentuate high cheek bones and the angles of her face. Eyes wide, she stood, like a deer in headlights staring across the room. Sympathy bubbled inside him as he crossed to her. 'You look lost."

She turned her hazel gaze on him, blinked. "Not lost, just nervous," she replied, giving him a shaky smile. "It's my first day and I'm a little freaked about getting rid of the crutches."

Dean nodded. He knew that feeling all too well. While he would have never admitted it in front of the crew, he'd been scared shitless to let go of his crutch and stand on his own two feet again. What if his leg wasn't really healed all the way? What if he fucked it up and made it worse? "I know that feel." he pointed to her leg. "What happened?"

"Compound fracture skiing. It's my first ever serious injury and I almost lost my leg over it."

Feeling as if he finally had an allie, Dean lifted his pant leg to reveal the giant scar. "Same. Only mine was a car accident."

Her eyes widened as she stared at his leg. "Wow. Your scar is a lot bigger than mine." She tugged as her sweatpants and revealed her scar. "And you're back on your feet no problem?"

He grinned. "I wouldn't say no problem." He did have a slight limp when he worked his leg too hard or was overly tired. With any luck, that problem would eventually go away. "That is, of course, why I'm here, but I am back on my feet."

"That's good to know," she replied, then extended her free hand. "I'm Nicole."

"Dean," he replied and shook her hand.

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him. "You look so familiar. Like I've seen you that before."

Dean shot her a grin. "I bet you say that to all the guys you meet." He gave himself a quick mental smack. What in the hell was he doing flirting with this woman? It wasn't like he was attracted to her or anything.

A faint blush crept into her cheeks. "I wasn't-"

Chuckling, he held up a hand. "I was teasing. If you watch wrestling then you've probably seen me on television.

Her eyes widened at his admission. "Yes. That's it. My brother watches wrestling. You were in that three man team awhile back, right?"

Dean nodded. "The Shield."

"Right," she replied, then shrugged. "I'm not much into wrestling, but my brother will be psyched when I tell him I got to meet you." She glanced around the room. "So who's your therapist?"

"Kelly," Dean replied and nodded toward the blonde working with a patient in the far corner.

"Really?" Nicole's eyes widened. "Kelly is my therapist too.

He arched a brow. "What time is your appointment?"

"Ten," she replied. "You?"

"Ten," he said as he glanced in Kelly's direction. He'd never had to share an appointment before, so just what was Kelly up to?

"So," Kelly said as she clapped her hands together. "I see you've both met. That helps since I'm going to be working with you two together."

"Why?" Dean asked as his curiosity got the better of him.

"Because you both have the exact same injury," she replied. "Causes were different, but the injury is the same. Which means I can use you, Dean as a guideline for Nicole here to follow as she begins therapy." She motioned to his leg. "You've made some great progress over the last two weeks and I think it will help Nicole to have a gauge of where she should be in her progress during various stages of this process."

An hour later, sore, and a little tired, Dean hobbled toward the door with Nicole as she once again walked on her crutches. "Man," Nicole began. "She worked us hard. My leg hurts like hell."

Dean grinned. "Ah, but in the long run, that pain means progress is being made. Just follow her instructions for aftercare and you'll be fine."

She paused at the door, looked out and frowned.

"What's wrong?"

"My ride isn't here, yet," she replied. "Guess I'll have to wait."

"If you want, I'll wait with you," Dean said, then instantly wondered what made him extend the offer. He told Amber he'd be to Zoe's rehab center in about two hours and he really needed to get going if he was going to make it on time.

She smiled up at him. "That would great. Thanks."

Choosing to ignore the quick slide of guilt, he settled into a chair in the waiting area. Nicole followed his action then absently rubbed at her leg. "You said your injury came from a car accident?" she questioned.

Dean nodded. Despite his best efforts, there wasn't a day that didn't go by without him thinking about the accident. "Yeah," he said and frowned at the sadness in his tone. "Got slammed by an out of control tractor trailer on the Pennsylvania Turnpike during a blizzard."

"Holy crap," Nicole gasped. "That's horrible. Were you alone?"

Dean shook his head. "I had a co-worker and my girlfriend with me." God he hated how pitiful his voice sounded, but he couldn't shake the sadness that now seemed to live in his heart. It still shocked him, how a single moment in time could wreak such havoc on a person's life. Her hand came down over his, squeezed. He glanced down at where their hands were connected then up to her face to find sympathy in her eyes.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I hope they didn't suffer."

He blinked as her statement caused confusion to dominate for a moment. "No." He shook his head as the reality of her words finally registered. "They're not dead."

Her lips turned down and her brown knit. "I don't understand. Then why do you look so sad?"

"Because my girlfriend suffered a massive head injury," he replied. "She spent a month in a coma before regaining consciousness."

"I'm guessing by your sadness that she wasn't okay when she awoke?"

Dean shook his head. Why in the world was he even telling her this? An hour ago she was a stranger. Still, he couldn't stop the words from pouring out. "She suffered a stroke and lost motor function along her left side, but even worse is the memory loss. She doesn't know who she is, doesn't remember her family or me. We'd been together for well over a year. She totally changed my life and she doesn't even remember doing it."

Nicole nodded. "Now I understand why you look so sad. I can't even begin to imagine how it must feel to love someone who doesn't know who you are."

Before he could reply, the door opened and a blonde who looked to be about the same age as Nicole stepped in. "Nikki, you ready?"

Yeah." She nodded, then reached for her crutch and stood. "I'll see you at our next session?"

Despite the sorrow swimming in his heart, he forced a small smile. "Absolutely."

She'd only taken two steps when she turned back. "I know your situation isn't easy, so if you ever want to just escape for an hour and talk, call me. I'd be happy to grab some coffee and be your sounding board."

His grin widened at her offer. "Thanks. I'll remember that." And he would too.


	7. Chapter 7

This isn't a new update for the story, but one in general and a share. I've been sucked back into first world issues, so the story had to be put on hold. I'd also had a bit of writers block with where I wanted Dean and Zoe to go next.

However, the writers block is all gone. Thanks to today. I took my daughter to meet 'The Shield' today. We waited in line for 4 hours, but it was so worth it. I've posted pics and a video on my blog on my website if anyone wants to check it out. And yes, the boys are just as awesome in person as they are on television.

You can check it out at . Then just click on my blog post. Since Fan Fiction is being difficult with the post I have to spell it out here. siennastapleton (the period called a dot) then the normal com ending.

I'll be back in a few days with the next chapter.

Sienna


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